She stood there smiling, pincurls showing under her patterned scarf, the belt of her camel's hair coat, tied loosely in the current style, grey plaid wool slacks, brown brogues with split tongues, her sparkling eyes lighting the hallway outside Mr. Arnold's freshman English class . So begins this tribute to a marriage of sixty years, a period that spanned the Korean War, the developing atomic age, the transformation of medicine into a modern science, the troubled years of the Vietnam War and its aftermath, taking the author and his family from youth to old age, from innocence to a full-blown love that flourishes and grows even now. This story of a great marriage is laid out here for everyone to read and cherish.
The house is quiet at 3 AM, no creaking, no sound except for the small bells that always ring in my ear. It is as though the house and kitchen and floor and chair are there only as a cocoon for my thinking. An old mans thoughts do not lack consistency. As man for eons has seen himself the keeper, so do I still take on the role of provider and protector The poems in Thinking at 3 AM are tender, poignant, and frank expressions of the emotions of aging and the last phases of life. They also deal with the continuing love of a long and successful marriage, with serious illness that led to a near-death experience, with commitment to family, children, and grandchildren, as well as with diverse topics that always seem to express themselves in a poets mind and pen. In contrast to the poems about aging, one long autobiographical poem describes the poet's childhood and young adulthood, and contains stories and incidents one hopes ones heirs will know and remember. These poems reflect the authors deepest feelings, remembering life, loss, and the glorious world that he lives in every day. There is a knowing that resides in each of them, inviting the reader along for the ride on the poet's life journey.
The house is quiet at 3 AM, no creaking, no sound except for the small bells that always ring in my ear. It is as though the house and kitchen and floor and chair are there only as a cocoon for my thinking. An old mans thoughts do not lack consistency. As man for eons has seen himself the keeper, so do I still take on the role of provider and protector The poems in Thinking at 3 AM are tender, poignant, and frank expressions of the emotions of aging and the last phases of life. They also deal with the continuing love of a long and successful marriage, with serious illness that led to a near-death experience, with commitment to family, children, and grandchildren, as well as with diverse topics that always seem to express themselves in a poets mind and pen. In contrast to the poems about aging, one long autobiographical poem describes the poet's childhood and young adulthood, and contains stories and incidents one hopes ones heirs will know and remember. These poems reflect the authors deepest feelings, remembering life, loss, and the glorious world that he lives in every day. There is a knowing that resides in each of them, inviting the reader along for the ride on the poet's life journey.
RAMROD ROWS How similar they are, tall straight rows of soldiers and corn that grow so fast you can hear them in the night, must step back quickly to keep from being hit by the tears of joy that descend while children become men as we watch them sleeping. Corn shoots climb like Jack on his beanstalk to their certain end, tassels waving in the wind like celebrities' handkerchiefs under the noses of starstruck admirers, hiding so much sweetness in their budding kernels they begin a descent to tasteless in the instant of picking, stalks suddenly shorn and stacked in shocks only if someone notices their loneliness and binds them for company. Young men no more sophisticated than puppies grow from baby to manhood long before experience makes them mature, the methods of war instilled as they stand ramrod, no tassels here, only flags waving and feet marching "hut, two, three, four," jab and pull, aim and shoot, fall and die, human stalks to turn brown, dry up, and become fodder.
If you currently are in therapy. If you have ever been in therapy. If you are planning to be in therapy. If you have a psychological problem. In other words, if you are a member of the human race, you must read this book! In Maybe I'm Not Listening: Confessions of a Shrink, Dr. Tarlow relates some of the very funny and unusual experiences he has had with patients in psychotherapy. The book is Dr. Tarlow's candid and honest inside view of what at least one psychologist is thinking during therapy sessions. Dr. Tarlow gives his opinion of some very unusual symptoms presented by his therapy patients. There is the obsessive-compulsive patient who has to eat all her food in alphabetical order. Important questions that patients ask are also included in the book. For example, is it a good idea to consult a psychic rabbi? Many of the issues that a psychologist deals with on a day-to-day basis are discussed. How fees are set, boring patients, famous patients and attractive patients. Each day of the book features a unique confession that no other therapist has dared to make. This book will forever change your view of the mental health professional.
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